


Were's Richie?

by FancyKraken



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Halloween, Humor, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vampire Eddie Kaspbrak, Werewolf Richie Tozier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27116072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyKraken/pseuds/FancyKraken
Summary: Quickly scanning the landscape Eddie lets out a small sigh. In the past, Richie has returned from his excursions into the woods at later hours in the morning than this, but that doesn’t seem to ease the niggling feeling inside his heart that Richie needs his help.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64





	Were's Richie?

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this complete fluff of a Halloween-esque fic with vampire Eddie and werewolf Richie as husbands would not leave my brain. I had fun writing it so I hope you have fun reading it.
> 
> No real warnings for this fic just the usual mentions of blood and the traits that go along with vampires and werewolves.
> 
> Also, Stan's alive, bitches.

Early morning light barely touches the eastern sky as Eddie looks out of the large glass doors that open to the expansive backyard and woods beyond his and Richie’s home. Quickly scanning the landscape Eddie lets out a small sigh. In the past, Richie has returned from his excursions into the woods at later hours in the morning than this, but that doesn’t seem to ease the niggling feeling inside his heart that Richie needs his help. It’s the last day of November and the temperatures aren’t kind to anyone alone and unprepared out in the wilderness. It also doesn’t help that it’s near the winter equinox, a time when Richie seems to sink deeper and lose himself more to the beast within.

Opening the hall closet Eddie grabs the battered backpack with the first aid kit and other supplies for situations such as this, smiling a little at the roughly written letters spelling ‘Were’s Richie?’ in Sharpie on the nylon fabric of the front pocket. Practical and punny. Grabbing his puffer vest he slips it on zipping it up. While Eddie doesn’t really feel the cold nor needs protection, it makes him feel secure and closer to being normal, more human. Something he hasn’t been for almost thirty years. He slings the backpack over his shoulder and goes to the kitchen for more supplies before heading outside and into the woods.

Eddie inhales the crisp late fall air, the sharp scents of the woods flooding over him. His sense of smell is good, but not as good as Richie’s. Being a werewolf has some advantages over being a vampire, but only barely as Eddie often likes to tease. The faint heartbeat of a small animal brushes against his hearing and quickly fades fleeing from a predator as Eddie steps into the rough underbrush of the woods. He begins the search for Richie starting at the point where he watched him enter into the woods the other night.

Deadfall crunches under the light footfalls of his feet. He could be completely silent if he wants, but there’s no need, he’s only out hunting for his husband, not dinner. Not that Eddie needs to go out hunting for dinner, as he’s one of the most well-respected haematologists in the northeast which means he has access to all the blood he needs. Eddie rarely needs to find someone or something whole to satisfy his thirst. Sadly that wasn’t the case when he was younger.

The Losers had defeated Pennywise, or so they thought at the time, in the summer of 1989. Everything was sunshine and rainbows after that. At least that was the case until things slowly started happening to them one by one. Changes to their bodies that were way outside of the realm of normal puberty began to happen to each of them. Usually one isn’t able to projectile spit toxic acid that can burn through several inches of solid metal or be able to protract large bone spikes from their skin like a demonic porcupine. Unless all those health and sex ed classes just decided to omit those little nuggets of information during the whole ‘congrats you’ll have a lot more hair in weird places and acne’ talks.

These new developments were obviously something leftover from their encounter with Pennywise. The Losers never really could figure out why and how this all happened and most of them wish it never did, Eddie being among them. With the realization that he had been given the gift of vampirism, his world fell apart pretty quick. And how could it not? The mere thought of drinking blood from someone revolted Eddie to untold levels and now he has to do that to simply live. To say his teen years sucked is a big understatement.

Richie seemed to be the anomaly out of all of them, not displaying any kind of weird changes or powers. Each time the subject was brought up he’d vehemently deny that anything happened. He was too good looking to be cursed, obviously. The denial only lasted so long as one day Bill, Stan, and Eddie were hanging out together and Bill cracked a joke about werewolves when it clicked for Eddie. It seemed it did with Stan as well, the two of them locking eyes, each mirroring the cold dread and concern for Richie and what he’s been dealing with.

The next full moon Stan and Eddie began operation _A Dumbass Werewolf in Derry_. They were successful, thus answering the question if Richie had come away from their demon clown encounter unscathed or not. Werewolf Richie was out of the proverbial bag whether he wanted it or not. Which in the end was a good thing since he no longer had to suffer alone.

Now connected beyond friendship, the Losers had every reason to hold on to each other tight and never let go. But it didn’t last long as life continued on and families moved or it was time to go off to college. The promises to keep in touch and never let go were fierce and true and for a short time, those promises were kept until memories became fuzzy and faded away completely. By the age of nineteen, Eddie couldn’t remember any of his friends and was left alone in the world wondering why he was the way he was and how he even became a vampire in the first place. Those years were full of confusion, rage, resentment, and fear as Eddie asked questions that would go unanswered for twenty-seven years. Then one simple phone call upends everything he thought he knew.

Coming back to Derry and rejoining the six other members of Losers Club settled something deep within Eddie’s soul that had been in turmoil for years. For the first time in decades, he felt like he could breathe again in a way that had been long forgotten. And the moment his golden-brown eyes landed on Richie he knew he was truly home and everything would somehow be okay even if they still had that tricky problem of Pennywise to overcome.

Pennywise defeated, for realises this time, the Losers begin a new life, a better life with answers to some of their questions and with each other. It wasn’t long after that he and Richie began a relationship together. A werewolf and a vampire in love, it's like something out of a campy and ridiculous novel or TV show. Regardless of that, they have never been happier.

Despite the early morning light bleeding over the eastern horizon, the woods remain under the veil of near dark, but that doesn’t hinder Eddie and his search at all. Vampire vision has its perks, no flashlight required. He can see the smallest traces of broken and disturbed foliage where Richie has made his way through the rough terrain. Also, the occasional big honking paw print from Richie’s two hundred and twenty-pound wolf form in the soft earth is a big clue.

Eddie continues deeper into the woods, the occasional bird song from those who don’t travel south for the winter the only thing that cuts through the silence. Blinking up into the canopy of trees, Eddie studies the lightning sky between the thick interlocking branches above. Daylight is coming on fast now, the window to finding Richie narrowing. Eddie’s not worried yet, the mere hint of sunlight on his skin doesn’t automatically turn him into a pile of ash, but any long exposure to it does drain him incredibly fast and leaves him hungrier beyond anything he’s ever felt. He’s sure if he spent long enough in the sun he’d die, but he doesn’t really want to test out this theory, not now when he’s been reunited with his family and love of his life.

The surrounding forest is bathed in eerie light, the point where it’s too dark to be light and too light to be dark. Eddie pulls up short, his nostrils flaring and fangs almost descending as the familiar tang of coppery blood unfolds its scent around him. Instinct tells him to go towards it and lose himself in that comforting smell and taste, but underneath it, there’s that oh so subtle scent of rot and deadness. Blood that’s is still considered relatively fresh by many, but for Eddie, it’s been dead too long. Dead blood is something he cannot drink unless he wants to get extremely ill. Something he regrettably found out as a young vampire.

Eddie continues in the direction that the blood's tantalizingly allure is strongest and soon the faint scent of wolf mixed with Richie’s human scent floats on the air around him. The small knot of anxiety Eddie didn’t realize he was holding inside his heart loosens as the familiar scent of his husband grows thicker and stronger the closer he walks. Richie always has the scent of his wolf form thickly linger on him right after a change.

The sharp snapping of dead twigs punctures the air as Eddie tries to cut through some thick brush. He stumbles as his foot connects with an above-ground root, swearing viciously. Just because he’s a vampire doesn’t mean he’s always graceful on his feet. Still swearing and cursing nature for being a bitch, Eddie navigates through brush coming out on the other side into a small clearing shaped almost like a small shallow bowl. Off to the left side half under a clump of ferns, a large unmoving figure lies on the ground.

Years of deadfall have given the natural curve of the ground a softer feel. At least Richie isn’t lying on a completely hard surface; he prefers the softer comforts like sleeping on their top of the line therapeutic mattress or on top of Eddie.

Smiling softly to himself, Eddie studies Richie’s broad sleeping form quickly checking for any obvious injuries. There never are, Richie is gifted with werewolf durability and doesn’t feel the cold like regular humans, but it still doesn’t stop Eddie from making sure he’s okay. Richie’s completely naked, curled on his side, patches of dirt and grime covering parts of his skin and a few twigs and leaves tangled in short wavy hair. Small smears of dried blood around his mouth and on his fingertips stand out glaringly, but Eddie knows it’s not his. It’s from the kill that Richie must have done in the early hours of the morning and what Eddie sensed not far away.

The cold has leached the usually healthy pink colour from Richie’s skin, leaving it pale and more off white than Eddie is comfortable with. His eyes follow the trails of light blue veins that are visible underneath his skin, the blood inside Richie deliciously warm and fresh causing that familiar tug of need inside Eddie when he needs to feed. Thankfully he had one of his favourite smoothies earlier, packed with protein, fruits, veggies, and since regular human food doesn’t provide him with what he needs to actually survive, blood. He’s satiated enough for now, but too much longer and that hunger will creep in fast hooking it’s sharp claws into him not letting go until it gets what it wants. He doesn’t want to have to feed off Richie, especially after the hard change he’s just been through.

Eddie’s bitten Richie before, consensually of course, early in their relationship during a round of some amazing backbreaking sex. Well, backbreaking if they were human, that is. The first time they made love it was such a relief to finally let go, letting and encouraging each other to use all their strength and power rather than fearing that they’d bruise skin, break bones, or even possibly kill their partner. It was amazing and beautiful and Eddie had never felt such pleasure and love in his life before, like a man in the desert dying of thirst then finally getting that life-saving sip of water. 

Dropping the backpack gently to the ground and kneeling down, Eddie cups the side of Richie’s jaw with his hand tenderly, running his thumb lightly over his stubbled cheek. Unconsciously, Richie leans into that touch with a soft breathy exhale.

“Richie?”

No response. Richie is really out of it this time. He’s always drained after a full moon change and can still manage his way back home without issue, but not this time. The natural position of the Earth and its equinoxes always throws Richie into alpha wolf mode, sweeping him away into something a lot deeper and darker than where he normally goes when he changes. Usually, with his change, there is still Richie behind the two bright golden wolf eyes, but that all vanishes and is replaced by something otherworldly with the change of seasons. 

Eddie caresses his hand down Richie’s neck, letting his palm rest on his shoulder. The moment triggers the old memory of the time when he and Stan went out looking for Richie when they were in Derry and Eddie finding Richie passed out in the Barrens completely naked. Eddie had never blushed so hard in his fourteen years of life and felt so awkward coming across his best friend like this. Luckily he had the forethought to bring a small blanket with him, only as he tried to drape it over Richie without actually looking at him he missed and ended up covering Richie’s shoulders and head instead of his other, uh, bits. Real smooth. At least now he and Richie are together so there’s nothing between them they haven’t seen or touched.

“Richie?” Eddie says softly, shaking him.

A soft sleepy sigh is the only response he gets. At least he’s making a little progress, but time is ticking and the sun waits for no man or vampire. Eddie reaches into the backpack and pulls out a bottle filled with an electric blue coloured sports drink. Richie will need an electrolyte boost to get himself back on his feet.

“Okay, Rich, time to get up,” Eddie says more forcefully than before, shaking Richie’s shoulder harder.

A muffled “mmmurph” indicates Richie is close to waking. Eddie continues to call Richie back to consciousness while shaking him more vigorously.

“Nnnn’spagheddie‘stooearly,” Richie finally slurs out.

“Not my fault,” Eddie retorts. “You didn’t get your ass close enough to home this time.” He knows it’s not Richie’s fault, but it’s still fun to tease.

“Huh?” Richie croaks as he blearily opens his eyes. Lifting his head off the forest floor he squints looking around. “Where are we?”

“Here.” Eddie pulls a glasses case out of the backpack. Even though Richie is in perfect health, can heal a lot faster than normal people, and not get sick, his eyesight is still shit. Something he thinks was an extra fuck you from his BFF Pennywise. Who gets all the perks of being a werewolf and not have good eyesight when he’s in human form? It’s rude as fuck, that’s what.

Groggily, Richie angles himself up into a sitting position with a groan. Bits of earth, dead leaves, and twigs stick to his skin where he was lying on the ground. Eddie smiles to himself at the state of him, reaching out to brush some of the offending foliage off his very sleepy and disoriented husband’s large frame. Eddie loves how broad Richie’s chest and shoulders are so any excuses (although he doesn’t need one) to touch Richie is a big win.

Almost drunkenly Richie puts on his glasses, his now magnified eyes blink rapidly as they adjust to his surroundings. “Uhhh, guess that rave I went to was a bit more intense than I thought.” He looks down studying the dried blood on his fingertips. “A lot more intense.”

“How do you feel?”

“Like I haven’t slept in—“ a large yawn overtakes Richie practically unhinging his jaw, “…years.”

“Here, drink some of this.” Eddie hands him the sports drink then produces a pack of wet wipes from the backpack. “Are you hungry? I packed some snacks.”

Richie finishes a large gulp of his drink then pauses. An odd look crosses his face as he tries to determine if he is hungry or not. “Nope, I gotta feeling I already ate,” he says as he studies his blood-stained fingers again with an uneasy frown.

“Do you remember anything?” Eddie surveys Richie’s tired and grime-covered face. All he wants is to get them home and crawl into bed together. The lighter it gets the more energy and alertness is being drained out of him. The faint call of their king-sized bed is heard on the wind.

“Not really. Just flashes of stuff,” Richie contemplates as he uses a wet wipe to remove the dried blood off from around his mouth. During the usual changes, Richie has a pretty clear memory of what goes on when he’s in his wolf form. Squinting up at the brightening sky, what little colour that remains in Richie drains away with fear. “Oh shit, Eds, it’s getting late. Why the fuck did you come looking for me?”

“Because, asshole, you’re my husband and I wanted to make sure you were alright.” Eddie levels Richie with a frown that clearly states that he won’t hear more on the subject.

“But you know me! I’m always fin— _OW! Motherfucke_ r!” Richie yelps as he shifts position accidentally pressing his hand down on a sharp rock. He studies his palm, pouting a little.

Eddie surveys his husband who could easily pass for the cousin of _Swamp Thing_. “Uh-huh.”

“Kiss it better?” Richie holds out his hand with a sheepish smile.

Vampire or not, Eddie is not about kiss Richie’s hand covered in dirt and blood and whatever else. “I will after you wash it or boil it.”

“Is that a promise?” Richie gives Eddie a playful grin with a wicked edge to it.

Huffing a laugh, Eddie rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that’s a promise. Now can we please get you dressed so we can go home?”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

“Oh my god,” Eddie mutters but is unable to hide the smile tugging at his lips. Yes, his husband is insufferable, but in the best ways possible.

Taking out a pair of running shoes, socks, sweatpants, and a sweatshirt from the backpack, Eddie begins helping Richie get dressed.

“I can do this on my own, Eds, I’m a big boy,” Richie complains as Eddie begins to pull a sock over his right foot. But when Eddie helps him to his feet Richie sways violently forward and is only prevented from falling flat on his face because of Eddie in front, steadying him. Arms wrapped around Richie’s waist, Eddie pulls him in for a hug, inhaling all those wonderful scents that are Richie and decidedly ignoring the less pleasant ones from the woods and whoever Richie’s dinner was. There have to be limits to the mountain man kink somewhere, Richie doesn’t exactly smell like a pine-scented Yankee Candle.

“You were saying?” Eddie arches an eyebrow as he stares into Richie’s tired eyes.

“I totally meant to do that,” Richie lies.

“Mmm-hmm,” Eddie hums, sliding an arm from Richie’s waist to wipe off a missed smudge of dirt near Richie’s lips. Leaning up a little, Eddie softly presses his lips against Richie’s in a chaste kiss. Immediately he hears Richie’s heart rate accelerate like it always does when he kisses him.

Eddie cautiously pulls away keeping one palm pressed against Richie’s stomach, bracing him. “You good?”

“Always when I’m with you.” Richie grins a bit lopsidedly.

Warmth blossoms inside Eddie with Richie’s reply. Growing up Richie was never one for soft and sappy words, always hiding his true self and what he felt behind jokes and innuendos, but throwing down with Pennywise changed it all, revealing the true Richie behind all those jokes underneath. A big sap with a wonderfully caring heart and a wicked talent for comedy, no ghost-writer required.

Making sure Richie’s shoes are properly tied; Eddie grabs the backpack and wraps an arm around Richie’s waist, guiding him out of the small clearing.

The way back through the woods is slower this time as Richie stumbles through the underbrush, over tree roots, and dead debris. Eddie knows he’s trying his best wanting to get back so he won’t suffer much in direct sunlight, but Eddie’s not overly worried, at least not yet. The winter sun is shining weakly through the trees above but still doesn’t penetrate much of the forest below.

The sounds of bird song become louder and more lyrical as the morning grows lighter. Finally, they arrive at the edge of their property in just over double the time that it took Eddie to find Richie, but that’s okay he doesn’t mind in the least.

“Oh fuck,” Richie breathes, his shoulders sagging. Almost the entirety of their expansive backyard is now bathed in sunlight.

“It’s only a few seconds to the back door, Rich, I’ll be fine,” Eddie reassures. True a few seconds won’t hurt him, just make him a bit hungrier than normal, that’s more than a fair trade in Eddie’s eyes for Richie. It would have taken Richie most of the day to recover enough to get back to him on his own. Walking around the woods naked at night is never a good idea and with Richie, there is a good chance he would get mistaken for Bigfoot then get his ass kidnapped by the military or NASA or some cryptid collector’s fan club.

The headlines would be wild: _Bigfoot Found? Why is famous comedian Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier wandering naked in the woods?_ Twitter would lose its shit.

“Nuh-uh,” Richie says with a determined air. Hooking fingers under the hem of his sweatshirt he pulls it up along his torso and off over his head.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Put this over your head,” Richie says with all seriousness, no hint of a joke behind his demand. He holds out the sweatshirt to Eddie expectantly.

“Are you serious?” Eddie sputters incredulously, looking up from the sweatshirt to Richie’s face in rapid succession. The briefest sad look crosses Richie’s features that make Eddie regret his reaction. Of course, Richie doesn’t want anything to happen to him even if the risks in this situation were pretty low on the life or death scale of things. Eddie’s heart softens into gratitude.

Taking the sweatshirt from Richie, Eddie huffs out a loud sigh for dramatic effect, making Richie smile smugly, then drapes the sweatshirt over his head like a veil. The sleeves hang past his ears down to his chest. “Happy?”

“Not yet,” Richie says as if he’s considering the merits of this next haute couture fashion trend. He reaches out, taking the sleeves of the sweatshirt and ties them together pulling the knot up under Eddie’s chin. He fluffs and rearranges the rest of the fabric around Eddie’s head, neck, and face so that Eddie’s covered enough to prevent sunlight from touching him unless he turns his head directly towards the sky. Richie’s natural scent mixed with his sweat and the earth permeate the fabric around him.

“Hands in your pockets, please,” Richie almost sing songs.

Eddie stuffs his hands forcefully into the pockets of his puffer vest. “Now are you happy?” He levels Richie with a very unimpressed stare, brows furrowed, adding to the drama of pleasing his husband.

“Yep!” Richie grins happily. “My grumpy vampire baboushka.”

Rolling his eyes Eddie purses his lips into a hard line as Richie snakes his arm alongside his linking them together. “I’m not going to float away, Rich,” Eddie says, immediately wincing with his poor choice words.

“If you did I’d just kiss you to bring you back to me,” Richie says softly with a look of adoration.

But thankfully that chapter of their lives is well and truly gone. The nightmares that still infringe on the edges of their consciousness and in their dreams are still there but blunted. The snarling, sharp bite of them along with Pennywise is replaced by a light so bright that they still feel like they are dreaming and never want to wake up.

Ducking his head down, Eddie squeezes Richie’s arm between his and they step out into the backyard. The bright sunlight stings Eddie’s eyes as they quickly adjust from the darkness of the woods but that’s the worst of it. The trip across the backyard barely lasts over ten seconds before they’re letting themselves in through the back door.

The house is quiet and full of shadow, Eddie having the forethought to draw the blinds on the big floor to ceiling windows of their living room before leaving. A calm relaxed feeling overtakes Eddie with the relief of being home and inside with Richie.

“Everything okay?” Richie turns to Eddie, his eyes searching for anything amiss.

“I’m fine,” Eddie assures him as he unties the sweatshirt and pulls it off his head. “But you’re not, you need rest.”

As if almost on cue a yawn cuts Richie off before he can answer. Blinking almost dreamily Richie nods. “Yeah, sleep sounds real nice.”

“But first a shower.” Eddie nods as he studies the leftover grime and dried blood sticking to Richie’s skin.

“I’ll probably fall asleep in there,” Richie muses.

“That’s why I’ll be in there with you, dummy,” Eddie chuckles.

Immediately Richie perks up, his weary eyes lighting up with happy anticipation. “Oooh, lucky me.”

Smirking, Eddie leans in to place a quick kiss on Richie’s lips. “Go upstairs, I’ll follow in a moment.” 

Richie lopes upstairs as much as his tired body allows while Eddie goes to the kitchen. Discarding the backpack on a kitchen chair he moves to the fridge pulling open the stainless steel door. He selects a small bottle full of blood and places it in the microwave to warm for a few seconds. While having blood fresh from the body is infinitely better tasting and energizing, this will have to do. Usually, Eddie can go a few days between needing a good portion of blood to drink, but this morning has left him depleted, the hunger inside him waking up with a grumpy growl.

The sharp beep of the microwave breaks the silence of the kitchen. Removing the bottle and giving it a vigorous shake, Eddie downs the blood in a few gulps, wiping away a stray drop on his chin then licking it off the pad of his thumb. Immediately the hunger within begins to settle back into an uneasy doze. This should last him until he gets back to the lab next week.

Eddie heads upstairs to their master bedroom with the blackout shades drawn and into their en suite bathroom where a stripped-down Richie is about to step into their spacious spa like shower. Steam floats lightly over the top edge of the glass giving the atmosphere an almost dreamlike quality.

“Better there, babe?” Richie asks, placing his glasses down next to one of the double sinks that he uses. Bottles of various grooming products and razors are lazily placed around the sink in a chaotic way that is just Richie. Naturally, Eddie’s side is much more organized.

“Yeah,” Eddie says while trying to stifle a yawn of his own. “Sleep will help even more.” Undressing, Eddie opts to leave his clothes crumpled on the bathroom floor rather than hanging them up as he usually does. They need to be washed anyway, no sense getting his cleaner clothes dirty.

Now that they’re both naked they step into the shower under the hot spray of the large showerhead. Eddie smiles fondly as Richie tips his head back under the spray of water letting it wash away the remains of the dirt on his face. He sways lightly on his feet enjoying the sensations.

“Ahhh that’s the stuff,” Richie groans with relief.

They stand there, letting the heat of the water wrap around their tired bodies and sink into their muscles further welcoming in the need to lie down and rest. More often than not showering together ends in pleasured cries, gasped names, and frantic touches on each other’s skin, but not this morning. Taking it slow Eddie helps Richie bathe, washing his back and lathering up his hair, running his fingertips soothingly along Richie’s scalp practically making him purr.

“I thought you were a werewolf, not a kitten,” Eddie jokes.

“Mmmm, I’m the best werekitten there is, baby,” Richie teases proudly.

With soft kisses and caresses, Eddie helps Richie finish washing before he quickly begins to wash himself. Which is a bit awkward when you have your very large husband leaning against and draped over your shoulders half asleep.

Turning off the water and placing a kiss on the palm of Richie’s hand where the offending rock stabbed him earlier, Eddie says, “all done. Think you can make it out of here and into bed?”

“You might have to carry me,” Richie replies drowsily.

“Only as a last resort.” Richie deliberately leans harder on Eddie forcing him to take more of his weight. “Asshole. I know you can walk.”

“But Eeeeds,” Richie whines then suddenly gives a sharp yelp of surprise as Eddie uses his vampire speed to get out from under him leaving Richie precariously off balance. Despite being bone-crushingly tired Richie is quick enough to brace himself against the shower wall to prevent a full-on face plant onto the tiled floor.

Eddie stands on the other side of the glass door, water dripping from his hair and down his body, giving Richie a mischievous grin with a hint of fang.

Richie scowls at him. “Not cool, dude.”

“It’s kinda cool,” Eddie says with a smug air. He holds out his hand for Richie to take, which he does after several moments of hesitation trying to gauge how badly it’ll hurt if this is a joke. Sometimes it’s hard not to revert to their old ways when they were kids and constantly pulling shit like this against each other. But Richie doesn’t have to worry as he takes Eddie’s hand and gently helps him step out of the shower.

Grabbing a big fluffy towel, Eddie begins to vigorously dry off Richie’s head which elicits a flurry of muffled complaints from underneath.

“What was that?”

“You’re being too rough, man!” Richie complains with a small pout.

“You big baby.” Eddie rolls his eyes playfully. He knows he’s not being too rough and its just Richie being a little shit. Taking the towel he wraps it behind Richie’s neck pulling him in for a soft, slow, sensual kiss. As they part, Eddie nips lightly at Richie’s bottom lip.

Richie blinks at him slowly, a dopey grin on his face. “If I weren’t so fucking tired I’d fuck that pretty mouth of yours right here and now.”

The familiar crackling pinpricks of pleasure blossom in Eddie’s abdomen and lower, but it’s not enough to light a full-on inferno of arousal right now even if Richie’s words are more than appealing. “Later, okay?”

“M’kay,” Richie hums, pleased.

The two dry off, letting the towels lie in a heap on the floor next to Eddie’s clothes, too tired to do anything about it at the moment. Normally Eddie would at least run a comb and some product through his hair but leaves it as he guides Richie, now practically asleep on his feet, to their bed. Pulling down the thick comforter he waits until Richie crawls into their bed with a contented sigh before covering him up to his chest. Eddie quickly follows, slipping under the soft warm weight of the blanket slotting himself perfectly against his husband.

Immediately his body begins to slip into that weightless relaxed feeling as he settles, resting his chin on Richie’s shoulder and draping an arm across his chest. Closing his eyes Eddie’s about to drift off when Richie stirs coming back from that hard pull sleep is so desperately trying to get him under.

“Thanks, S’gheddie,” Richie slurs sleepily.

“Nothing to thank me for, just rest.”

“Y’found me, s’yeah, thanks.”

Placing a soft kiss on Richie’s shoulder, Eddie exhales as a happy bubble of adoration grows in his chest. They always were able to find each other as children and teens, whether it was playing games outdoors, in times of uncertainty, or when they just needed a friend; they were always there for one another. The invisible and unbreakable link between them always had them tied together on an uncanny level more than anyone else. Even twenty-seven years apart and a demonic space clown couldn’t break that.

“I always will, Richie,” Eddie whispers before he lets himself go, sleep carrying him away in his husband’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Feedback and kudos mean so much and is always appreciated.


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